


and you think about what you regret (do you miss me at all?)

by teenagedenigma



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, Girl Direction, Smoking, enjoy i guess?, i don't use capital letters sorry, it's only teen because there's swearing, nothing majorly bad, this is more of a drabble so idk how to tag it?, who are we kidding i can't write angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagedenigma/pseuds/teenagedenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis' addicted. harry's frustrated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and you think about what you regret (do you miss me at all?)

**Author's Note:**

> uh, hi. so. this is the first fic i've ever really finished, so please be gentle, and commentary would be much appreciated. based on Nicotine by Saving Jane.

* * *

  _go on, go on, go on, try to give me up  
_ _but you know you can't quit  
_ _i'm the burn in your mouth and you can't spit me out  
_ _you can try, but you can't forget_

* * *

 louis leaned her head back against the chair, letting the smoke out of her lungs with a tired sigh as she watched the stars blink in the night sky. she thought she could see orion, or maybe it was the little dipper. she wouldn't know. harry was the one with the useless knowledge of astronomy.

_harry._

she took another drag from her cigarette then, cringing at the strong taste of nicotine. it was bittersweet, that louis was out on her balcony doing the one thing that the most beautiful girl, her girl, couldn't stand. louis was nothing if not ironic.

but it wasn't her damn fault.

* * *

she'd tried to get her to stop.

louis could vividly remember how harry had looked when she'd found the half empty pack, remembered it more vividly even than when she met her, if that's possible. she remembers the transition of emotion in the green eyes— shock, then disbelief, then disappointment. she remembers the shame she felt when harry placed them back where she'd found them— the fucking sock drawer, honestly— and left their bedroom, their apartment. louis hadn't even chased after her.

* * *

she'd never told any of the other girls except zayn.

but louis knew zayn, knew the girl wouldn't be able to care less that louis was addicted to the calm that fags managed to give her. that's why she told her and not harry. she knew how they'd react. she knew.

zayn had snorted when louis'd told her. she'd called her a _dumb fucking moron_ , asked what she'd do when harry found out. louis still remembers her answer.

_she won't find out._

maybe zayn was right. maybe louis was a moron.

* * *

 as her current cigarette faded to its end, louis dropped it and stomped it out, watching as the final sparks faded out into the ashes underneath her vans. she figured that maybe that was her favourite part about smoking; watching the last bit of light fade pitifully from what hadn't yet burned out. maybe louis was a cigarette, and maybe harry had stomped her out the day she'd left.

* * *

 niall had called the night harry left.

_you bloody fucking moron,_  she'd yelled, accent thick with angered annoyance, _what the fuck did you do to your girlfriend to send her crying to me._  

louis had hung up.

* * *

 harry only wanted the best for her. louis knew that. the problem was that louis just wanted the worst for herself.

she can't even remember the first time she smoked, can't remember the unpleasant new taste and the painful hacking. she can't remember a time smoking didn't work for her, a time when it was unfamiliar. it's a bit like harry, in that sense; she knows she hasn't had the girl in her life forever, but she can't remember a time she didn't know her. she had made an attempt to stop, actually. several times. she knew how harry felt about it, how she despised cigarettes. she knew how they'd killed harry's grandmother. she knew, _she fucking knew,_  and she still just couldn't quit.

* * *

 it was a month before she saw harry again.

the taller girl was on the couch when louis got home from the gas station down the street. their eyes met before harry's drifted to the new pack in louis' hand. both girls cringed.

"am i not enough for you." it wasn't a question.

"you are. more than enough, even. but that's not how addictions work, harry." louis had to fight back tears.

"if i come back, will you try to quit, or will i be wasting my time?"

"i did try, before. i was trying every day."

"but will you try again?"

louis stared hard at harry. her hair looked filthy, more so than usual, and her face looked a bit sunken, her eyes dull and red-rimmed. she looked pitiful, yet she was still more beautiful, more blindingly brilliant than any star louis could ever hope to find in the sky.

"when's the last time you ate?"

"don't change the subject, louis."

"harry."

the girls continued to stare each other down. in the end, louis was the one who caved. metaphors, and all that.

"you know you're more important to me than this. than anything. i really fucking lo- i miss you."

harry almost smiled at that, a twitch at the corners of her lips. "i miss you too, lou."

"so are you here to stay, then?"

"if you'll have me. if you'll really try."

louis watched her for what felt like years but was more realistically seconds, and tossed the pack of cigarettes she'd only just bought in the trash can they kept by the door.

she let out a sigh, heavy but relieved, "welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a fifteen year old girl i don't know anything about smoking or love please don't hit me
> 
> also feel free to hit me up on my tumblr (also teenagedenigma) if you wanna talk about girl direction or boy direction or food, i'm a lonely soul


End file.
